Georgia Girl

Thursday, October 25, 2007

La fiesta de blanco trasho

About a month ago my officemates Julie and Ryan threw a white-trash party. It was super badass because it was the same night as the Georgia vs. Alabama game when Georgia WHOOPED SOME ASS!! (go dawgs!) So, obviously, my knee-jerk reaction to white trash was to dress up at Britney Spears (ok, the media really needs to give that girl a break and just leave her the hell alone but that's another story for another day....she is trashy, though, and you gotta respect that). "Britney Spears, Britney Spears," I thought. "Hmmm...obviously I'll have to be pregnant. And slutty looking. What else though?!" Then I had a flash back to Lindsey Lohan. "Crack!" The rest is best told through pictures....

The doo-rag, crack stashed in my pregnant belly, and the long-ass star earrings--all Britney. The OD, all me. Notice that you can't see my press-on nails in this picture because a lot of them had already fallen off.

This is me, posing with my disney-character placemat prize. I got it for being the best pregnant lady at the white trash fiesta! You can see my press-ons a little better.

The lovely hosts of the fiesta.

Me and Hayden, the other pregnant chick. She stopped at a gas station on her way to the party dressed like that and the guy behind the counter was VERY concerned about her buying a 40.

Me and My dream boat. He won air freshners for having the best raccon penis bone (scientifically known as a bacculum) at the party. Can you see my fake, glittery eye-lashes??

Thursday, October 18, 2007

My baby is a WOMAN-DOG!

Last night, I was innocently watching "Bring it All or Nothing," a sequal to "Bring it on," (look, I totally dig watchin dance movies even if they're TERRIBLE. Where do you think I get the bulk of my moves?). Anyway, so I was watching the movie with June. And she was doin her thing where she chews on her bone, walks all over the couch, looks out the window, chews on her bone, demands attention, chews on her bone, sits and stares at me, etc etc. That's when I noticed little red blotches all over the couch. My first thought was, "She's starting her period!!!" So I looked at her coo-coo and it didn't really seem different or have other forms of evidence. But when I wiped it with a paper towel, the evidence was obvious. My baby is in heat! That means one day she'll have puppies!! YAY!! She's a year and two months old today, so I was startin to think she wasn't gonna be able to have puppies. Anyway, just like any other female, she has been demonstrating typical pms behaviors. She's been kinda snotty, slightly demanding, eating a lot, having weird poops, and on occasion......she's been kinda bitchy. Check the picture out below where she's "playing" with Duffy (my friend Julie's dog):

Total pms, right???

This is her a few weeks ago, prior to the UGA vs. Ole Miss game. We've got our game faces on.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Dogs, Purses, and Pee

So the other night I held my first dinner party a la trailero nuevo. It was a "Potluck Pizza" themed event where everyone brought a favorite pizza topping. I made dough from scratch and everybody got their own little ball to make a personal pizza. It was a good time. Me and my new friend Julie split a bottle of Peaches&Cream flavored Mad Dog. GHETTO. So obviously we got drunk. Julie and her boyfriend Ryan brought over one of their dogs (Duffy) and he played with June like they were both completely insane. Towards the end of the evening, Ryan mentioned that June was sitting at the door. I said, "Nah, she's just cryin wolf again. She does that a lot." About two minutes later Ryan said, "Your dog is peeing on your purse." I looked at him and said, "No she's not, quit messin around." And he said, "No, she really is." And everyone turned to see June COMPLETELY squatting on my purse and just peein away. We all started laughing our asses off. But then Duffy, being a boy dog, came along and re-marked my purse with his pee.

Do you judge me because I used my purse the next day?

Oh, you remember how I use to be a vegetarian? Yeah, well I'm not anymore. Cool, huh?

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Correction

I got my statement from State Farm and they turned out to be the cheaper choice...my agent made a little calculation error and sent me a hand-written note explaining it. How badass is that?

Have you tried this Pandora's box thing on the internet? It's like a streaming radio. I love it! How badass is that?

So Jelena told me about this half-marathon they're having where we grew up (literally) in March. And guess what?!? We're gonna do it!! I started trainin for it yesterday. I'm pretty pumped...I'm just gonna try my hardest to avoid gettin injured. We'll see.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Childrens Do Learn

Recently I've been watching a lot of Jon Stewart's Daily Show and The Colbert Report. They crack my shit up.

Anyways, what the hell is up with people not apologizing. Now, I don't mean this on a personal level. If I want an apology from a friend/lover/sibling/etc I'll beat it out of them if they won't give it to me willingly. I mean in the business world. I recently got insurance for my BADASS trailer. I went with State Farm even though they'll cost me an extra $30 a year (a lot for a grad student) compared to Farm Bureau. You wanna know why? Because when I initially called Farm Bureau, they said they'd call me right back. But they never did. So the next day I called and told the receptionist what happened. No apology. The agent she connected me to heard the same story from me (it was told VERY politely). Once again, no apology, no empathy. Nada. Granted, neither one of them were responsible for calling me back. However, I was a potential customer and they are representives of the company I was seeking a service from. So guess what? I now pay extra money to State Farm because the lady who helped me there was amazingly nice. Think about it. Which company will be better to deal with if my trailer gets broken into, swept away by a flood, blown over by a tornado? The folks who don't call me back or the ones who send me a hand-written letter? The decision is yours.